


The Sea

by Funtimewriter, jackatlas1996



Category: Adam Levine (Musician), Blake Shelton (Musician), The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Non-Linear Narrative, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 15:01:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12534412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Funtimewriter/pseuds/Funtimewriter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackatlas1996/pseuds/jackatlas1996
Summary: In the middle of the night, Blake and Adam stand at the edge of the sea.  Adam can't figure out why Blake is there.





	The Sea

**Author's Note:**

> JackAtlas1996 sent me part of a story he'd written, but he'd stopped writing it because he wasn't sure where to take it. So I took it somewhere. Welcome to our first collaborative work!

Tuesday 3:00 am

            The sea was a living thing.  It moved.  It breathed.  It was sighing now as it stretched its long fingers along the shore, reaching to shift the sands and raise the line of flotsam and jetsam.  Then it once again drew back.  The eternal dance of the tides.  The black glossy waves reflected the moon, that ancient partner of the sea as it sent its pale light down on the shore.

            Illuminated by that light, Adam’s eyes were dark.  His features seemed drawn, ghastly as if suffering from some great illness or approaching death.  As Blake watched, he seemed to draw into himself.  His shoulders hunched under the jacket that had been tossed carelessly over his shoulders.  Adam’s left arm was cradled in a sling.  A white bandage decorated his temple.  He held his right hand clenched into a fist before him and stared at it.  After a moment, he opened his fist.  A gleam of gold glinted in his palm for an instant.  Then it was gone, sailing through the air towards the receding tide.  Blake couldn’t tell when and where it struck the water.  When the ocean claimed this small offering, it gave no sign.

Monday 2:00 pm

            _“This is Blake Shelton of Shelton Delivery,”_ _Blake said into the phone.  “I’m calling to confirm the cancellation of an order from a Mr. Adam Levine?”_

_“I’m not accepting any deliveries.”  The voice was sharp, as though Blake had somehow offended him._

_“Alright,” Blake said.  Keep things professional.  “I’ll refund the delivery fees.  However, I need to inform you that the companies you placed your orders through will probably charge restocking fees.”_

_“They can charge whatever they want.  I really don’t care.”_

_“Sir, this is just a courtesy call to make you aware of these charges,” Blake said, still professional.  “Some of them can be…”_

_“I told you I don’t care,” the voice snapped.  “I’ll be dead long before I get that bill.”_

Tuesday 3:01 am

            Blake glanced back towards the road.  His delivery truck waited, parked in half-hazard fashion next to the road.  During the day, that road would be dangerous, with cars and trucks racing at breakneck speed.  But at three in the morning, the road was all but deserted.  An unnatural silence covered the beach.

            “You can go now,” Adam said, his voice breaking the stillness.  “You don’t have to be here for this.”

            “I ain’t going anywhere.”

            “You’re not going to try to talk me out of it?”

            “Nope.  You’re a grown man.  I’m not here to tell a grown man what to do with his life.”

            Adam shivered.  “I don’t know if that means you’re unusually understanding, or a sick freak.”

            Blake didn’t answer.  He was neither, but it didn’t matter now.  This wasn’t the time and place to discuss himself.

Monday 1:00 pm

            _“Plastic folding chairs, tables, tablecloths, place settings,” Blake muttered, checking off his list.  “Silk flowers, vases for same.  Plastic plates, silverware, and cups, damn, who uses plasticware at a wedding reception?  Someone broke, obviously.  What else, ah, party favors, right, that’s these cases.  Where’s my streamers?  There.  Alright, that’s everything.”_

_Blake had just locked the back of the truck when his phone rang.  “Hey, Blake, cancel that order you just packed,” Roy, his office assistant, told him.  “The whole delivery just got cancelled.”_

_“Aw hell, I just wasted all this time packing it!” Blake complained.  “Shit!  I hope the companies charge this cheap asshole a huge restocking fee!  Alright, I’ll unload it.  Thanks.”_

_“Let me know when your truck’s ready.  You can get a jump on another big order that’s not supposed to go out until tomorrow.  Load the truck and tomorrow all you’ll have to do is drive it out.  Meanwhile, you and I can hit the bar.”_

_“Good idea.  Alright, I’ll call you once I get done here.”_

_Profoundly irritated, Blake unlocked the truck and fetched the dolly again.  He glanced at the delivery address, wondering whose name to curse when he lifted his glass tonight._

_His heart skipped a beat._

_Blake stared at the name for a moment.  Then he quickly moved to the cab of his truck and snatched the newspaper he’d been looking at this morning.  He read the article on the front page, matching the name with the one on his delivery sheet._

_Stay out of it, Shelton.  It’s not your business, Shelton.  Just unload the truck, put tomorrow’s delivery in, and go out for a drink, Shelton._

_Blake put the dolly back in its carrier, locked the back of the truck, and climbed into the cab.  He quickly called the office.  “Hey, Roy?” he said.  “I’m gonna take a raincheck on tonight.”_

_“Um, you sound kind of weird, boss,” Roy said.  “You alright?”_

_“Don’t worry about me.”  Blake started the truck and pulled out.  “I just got something I gotta do.”_

Tuesday 3:02 am

            “What are you even doing here, Blake?” Adam wanted to know.  “You don’t know me.  You just showed up out of the blue at my house after I told you I was refusing a delivery!”

            Blake shrugged.  “I was already on my way out to you before I got the call that you’d cancelled the delivery,” he lied.  “Then, when I called you, you just didn’t sound alright to me.”

            “How the hell would you know that?” Adam asked grumpily.  “You don’t know when I do sound aright!”

            “Well, you sounded off to me at any rate,” Blake said.  His voice was as pleasant as it had been since he’d first knocked on Adam’s door.  “You just sounded like someone who needed a friend.”

Monday 9:00 am

            _Blake finished shaving and splashed water onto his face to rinse off the last of the shave cream.  He mopped at his face with a towel and checked himself out in the mirror.  As always, his eyes moved to the picture stuck into the corner of the mirror.  Two figures smiled at him.  Gwen, her stomach protruding beneath her red dress.  Himself, standing just behind her with his arms around her, his fingers draped over the swell of her abdomen.  Both were happy, caught in a moment of carefree laughter.  Ahead of them was a bright, happy future.  They had everything to live for.  The man who looked back at him from the mirror was a different man than he’d been in that picture._

_Blake paused, letting the familiar ache fill his chest.  The blue eyes in the mirror looked old, tired.  His hair was more silver now than chestnut.  He’d grown old before his time.  Grief did that to a man.  Endless nights in an empty house.  All the constant reminders of what could have been.  Everything that he’d lost in one terrible night, just as he’d been about to have all he’d ever wanted._

_An index card was stuck into the mirror in the corner opposite the picture.  Eight words had been printed on it: “For Sale: Baby Shoes.  Never Worn.” - Ernest Hemmingway._

_Blake pulled on his denim jacket, grabbed his keys, and headed out the door.  He crouched on the doorstep, picking up his copy of the morning paper.  Tragic Car Crash Claims Life Of Bride-To-Be! the headline screamed.  Blake scanned the story as he walked to his truck.  It was a real tragedy.  The happy couple driving home along a busy highway.  A truck with a blow-out at the worst possible moment, the trailer swerving, striking their car.  A man found holding the broken body of his fiancée amid the destruction of his vehicle, his life.  Adam Levine.  Poor sap.  Blake’s heart went out to him._

_Time to go to work.  After all, it’s not like there was anything Blake could do for the other man._

Tuesday 3:03 am

            “I don’t get you, Blake,” Adam complained.  “You show up at my door after I told you I’d cancelled the delivery, and then you wouldn’t go away.  You followed me around all day while I packed up the house, not saying a damned word…”

            “You let me in.”

            “I have no idea why I did that,” Adam grumbled.

            “I’d say you needed to talk,” Blake suggested.  “I’m a good listener.”

            “Yeah.  I’d say you are.”  Adam sighed.  “I want you to know, I do appreciate it.  I don’t have any family or friends.  It was just me and Behati.  I mean, she had tons of family and friends.  No idea what she saw in me.  But it’s not like I could talk to her friends, right?”

            “I don’t see why not,” Blake said.

            “You said that before!  But you don’t get it, Blake.  Behati was the center of her parents’ world.  Everyone loved her, ok?  And I couldn’t save her!  All I could do was hold her, watch her take her last breath, and then she was just gone and there was nothing, nothing I could do.  You don’t know what that’s like!”

            Blake didn’t answer.

            Adam was looking out at the sea again.  “She always loved the sea,” he said.  He may have been speaking to Blake, the waves, himself, or no one at all.  “She told me that, when she died, she wanted her ashes thrown into the sea, so she could be one with the waves.  But her family’s going to have her buried in the family plot.”

            “So you’re going to go into the sea in her place?” Blake asked quietly.  “That’s what you said.”

            “Yeah.”  Adam closed his eyes and tilted his head back, feeling the wind as it blew in from across the water.  It brought the sharp tang of salt with it.  The bitter chill of it brought a flush to Adam’s cheeks, giving his pale face a bit of color in the moonlight.

            “You should know, she’s not waiting for you.”

            Adam looked sharply at him.  “Excuse me?”

            “Your girl, Behati?”  Blake’s voice was gentle.  “She’s not waiting for you out there in the water.  She doesn’t want you to join her.  The sea doesn’t need you.”

            Adam gave him a long look.  “What the hell are you talking about?”

            Now.  Blake reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.  He couldn’t see much in the moonlight.  But some things you don’t need to see with your eyes.  His fingers produced the worn picture of Gwen as if magnetically attracted to it.

            Adam took it.  He turned on the flashlight on his phone and looked for a moment.  The picture was identical to the one on Blake’s mirror in his bathroom.  Blake said nothing.  He could practically hear the gears turning in Adam’s head as he considered what he was looking at.  And then the light went out.  Adam pocketed his phone and handed the picture back to Blake.  “Is that it, then?” the smaller man asked.  “You’re out here, spending all this time with me, because you lost your girl, too?”

            “I’m out here because she asked me to be here,” Blake explained.  He held the picture in his hand and glanced down, as if he could see it.  “Her name was Gwen, and she was my wife.  We were expecting our first child.  She was due any day, and we were all set.  Nursery was all set up, bags were packed, classes memorized.  When she went into labor, we didn’t even panic.  Just off to the hospital and ready to do this.  Everything was perfect.  Everything went according to plan.  And when that little head came out, I knew I’d never be happier in my life.”  Blake’s voice was calm, and devoid of emotion as he spoke.  “And that’s when it happened.  My daughter’s head was out, but that was it.  Gwen pushed, but she wasn’t moving.  The doctors told me later it was called shoulder dystocia.  It happens when the baby’s shoulders get stuck, can’t fit through the birth canal.  And it’s bad.  Real bad.  Next thing I knew, the room was full of people all trying this and that, rolling Gwen over and finally rushing her to the operating room.  But it was too late.  My daughter died before she was born, umbilical cord compression.  And Gwen, my wife, she bled.  She followed our daughter about an hour later.  I lost my whole life on the day it was supposed to change in the best way possible.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            Blake nodded his thanks.  “Everything after that’s pretty much a blur.  I buried my wife and daughter and went home to an empty house, all set and ready to raise a baby girl who never got to take her first breath.  And that’s why I sat down one night with a bottle of booze in one hand and a bottle of sleeping pills in the other and decided it was time I put my family back together.”

            “So you’ve been here, huh?” Adam asked.  “You’ve been where I am?  That’s why you’re trying to stop me from doing this?”

            “I already told you, I’m not trying to stop you,” Blake said.  He hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans and looked out over the sea.  “You asked me a question, I’m just answering it, is all.  You’ll make your own decision.”

            Adam narrowed his eyes.  “I don’t get you, Blake.  I lost Behati and came out here because I’ve got nothing left worth living for.  You lost even more!  I could understand it if you were the one doing this.  I’d even get it if you were here to try to talk me out of it.  But if you’re  not here for either one, then why are you here?”

            “I told you.  I’m here because Gwen asked me to be here.  That night, I got myself good and drunk.  And I had the pills in hand, ready to swallow ‘em down.  And that’s when I remembered.  I got to be with her, at the end.  She was real weak.  They’d given her blood transfusions, but she was losing blood faster than they could put it in her.  And all I could do was hold her hand.  She told me two things before she died.  First was that she loved me.  And the second?  ‘Follow him to the sea.’  Didn’t make any sense then, but that night, when I was getting ready to join her, I realized that she was telling me I still had a purpose in my life.  My time wasn’t over yet.  If I joined her, she wouldn’t be glad to see me.  She’d be disappointed!  Because there was something I needed to do.  I needed to go on, because someday someone else would need me.  And when I found that person, I needed to go with them to the sea.”  Blake shrugged.  “That’s why I’m here.”

            “So, what, you stumbled over me and just decided I’m the one your dying wife told you about?” Adam asked.  His voice was dripping with incredulity.  “You realize how crazy that is, right?”

            “Sure do.  You don’t know me, and I don’t know you.  But I’ve been where you are.  I know that empty place, that point in your life when you’re looking around and you don’t see a single reason to take another breath.  When dying just seems better than going on one more day with pain as your constant companion.  But I don’t have any idea what you’re feeling, Adam, because I’m not you.  I just deliver packages.  I was supposed to deliver your stuff for your wedding reception.  And when I looked at all that stuff?  Hell, it was just like looking at my daughter’s nursery.”

            Adam didn’t respond.

            “Adam, I’m not here to stop you.  I got some idea of the pain you’re in, and if you want to end it now, that’s your call.  But you’re not alone.  I knew you’d go to the sea tonight, and I’m here, buddy.  I’m here.”

            They spent the rest of the night seated on the beach talking.  At the edge of the sea, a bond was forged from the chains of grief.  And neither was ever alone again.


End file.
